


blanket girls

by littledust



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-07-03
Updated: 2009-07-03
Packaged: 2017-10-17 21:47:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/181497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littledust/pseuds/littledust
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post-S1 finale, Morgana's dreams grow worse. Gwen helps her cope.</p>
            </blockquote>





	blanket girls

**Author's Note:**

> Very sorry that I could not get in any actual girlslash, dearest [](http://fahye.livejournal.com/profile)[**fahye**](http://fahye.livejournal.com/), but I think this is just as slashy as the show. :) I love Morgana and Gwen, platonic or not! Title from "Bells for Her" by Tori Amos.

In her dreams, Camelot rots at its core, blood and pus oozing from its stones, a long slow decay with Arthur at its heart. Morgana wakes from her dreams in screaming terror, pulse battering her bones as if to escape the confines of her body. Her head rings with horror, all overlaid with the sense that something is terribly _wrong_ \--like waking up unable to speak one's native language. Morgana shivers and moans in her bed and cannot name the source of her pain: it is the dreams, of course, but there is no reason for these nightmares to inspire such agony.

There is no reason for these nightmares to sometimes come true.

Gwen is there with cool hands and soft words; Gwen is always there, bereft of anyone to love outside the castle. She sleeps in Morgana's room, and after the nightmares, in Morgana's bed, curled close enough to touch but not enough to smother. Morgana needs to breathe after her dreams, needs to stretch away the tight trapped sensation of _watching_ without ever _doing_.

She chooses to look at Gwen, all of her own volition, takes in her quiet smile as she drifts back to sleep, takes in also the lines of grief and exhaustion on her face. Gwen has not physically aged, but these past few months have taken visible toll for those who know how to look. Morgana feels at once guilty and fiercely protective: she does not deserve this sacrifice from one who has already been through so much, no, but Morgana will keep Camelot safe for her Guinevere, no matter the cost, no matter the dragons she must slay.

In her head, Arthur says something snide about the maid's champion, but that's not quite right. Ever since he started charging off to rescue peculiar servant boys, he stopped being quite so insufferable. He, too, knows Gwen for a kindred spirit. Perhaps he's growing up. Morgana can't help but roll her eyes at the idea, and she knows the nightmare has retreated back to the dark corners of her mind. She is free for now, and it is safe to go back to sleep.

Still, Morgana presses a kiss to Gwen's forehead while she is still wide awake, renews her vows in doing so. _For you, Gwen._ There is a sacred quality to this ritual, a purity that runs deep and tastes of old magic. They lie together, touching only in one place but so close they breathe the same air, and Morgana thinks, _Uther will fail._

Morgana goes back to sleep.


End file.
